Page 32 of Undercover Infidel
I’d known Ambrose my entire life, and while he’d always been eccentric, today he seemed almost charming. He spoke animatedly with Lex about art history, displaying knowledge I hadn’t realized he possessed.
“Evelyn was telling me about your work in AI,” I heard him say. “Brilliant stuff, truly. She speaks very highly of you.”
“Dr. McLaren has been a wonderful mentor,” Lex replied. “She said you’ve been friends since university.”
“That’s right.” He smiled fondly. “We’re actually heading to a gallery opening in Glasgow this weekend. She has the most remarkable eye for detail—spots things most people miss entirely. Well, I’m off. Delightful seeing you again.” He waved in my direction. “And you, Con.”
After Ambrose left, promising to relay our regards to Dr. McLaren, Lex turned to me with raised eyebrows. “Is it my imagination, or do you think he fancies her?”
“God, I hope not.” I shook my head, unable to reconcile the image. “I’ve never seen him that way with anyone. It’s…unsettling.”
“I found him endearing,” she said, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Brose is many things, but ‘endearing’ has never been one of them.”
We finished our meal and settled the bill, both of us more relaxed than when we’d arrived. The walk back to my SUV took us through the village square, past stone cottages with smoke curling from chimneys.
“It’s beautiful here,” Lex said, her breath visible in the cold air. “Peaceful, despite everything.”
“That’s why I come back,” I admitted. “Edinburgh, even London, has advantages, but this…” I gestured to the rolling hills beyond the village. “This grounds me.”
Rather than returningto Blackmoor straightaway, I ventured south to Tarbert. Once there, I suggested we take the ferry over to the Isle of Arran.
“I’d love it,” Lex said with a wide smile and sparkling eyes.
“You are so beautiful,” I murmured, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Brilliant and beautiful.”
Her cheeks flushed as she whispered her thanks.
In the confined space of the vehicle, I remained acutely aware of her presence—the subtly of her natural scent, the warmth radiating from her body, the rhythm of her breathing. Tensions of a different sort replaced our earlier concerns, building with each kilometer.
My mobile rang, and Gus’ name flashed on the screen.
“Where are you?” he blurted when I put the call on speaker.
“About to get on the ferry to Arran.”
“We’ve intercepted something. Unusual communications from a facility near Dundee. Similarly encrypted to what we tracked from the St. Petersburg connection.”
“Give us forty-five minutes, and meet us at Blackmoor.”
“Copy that. See you then.”
I ended the call and looked over at her.
“We should head back,” Lex said, her eyes boring into mine.
“We should do.” I maneuvered my vehicle out of the ferry line. “Another time, though, yes?”
“I’d like that.”
Back in the ops hub,Lex, Gus, and I huddled over the data he’d transmitted. The communications were heavily encoded, but certain things stood out.
“This section here.” Lex pointed to a sequence on the screen. “The structure is distinct. It’s Orlov’s. I recognized it from a conference he presented at years ago.”
“So he’s in Scotland, not Russia?” I leaned closer, our shoulders touching.
“Not necessarily. But his work certainly is.” She glanced at me, our faces unexpectedly close. “He could be directing this remotely.”
